Worthless
by The Emcee
Summary: Alfred hadn't known for sure if Arthur's feelings for him were genuine when they were fooling around or not. He knew his were, but he was never sure about Arthur's. Now he knows that they were nothing but a lie and he doesn't know what hurts more: having his suspicions confirmed or feeling like a worthless, stupid fool. FrUk. Past UkUs. Unbeta'd.


Title: Worthless

Author: The Emcee

Pairing: FrUk, past UkUs

Summary: Alfred hadn't known for sure if Arthur's feelings for him were genuine when they were fooling around or not. He knew his were, but he was never sure about Arthur's. Now he knows that they were nothing but a lie and he doesn't know what hurts more: having his suspicions confirmed or feeling like a worthless, stupid fool.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: I have nothing to say right now except R&R. Enjoy!

**~…~**

Alfred sat in his car. The rain was pouring outside as it had been all day long, but right then and there it seemed as though it had gotten worse even though it really hadn't. His eyes were red and puffy and snot was dripping disgustingly from his nose, but he didn't care. Right then and there, he didn't give a damn about anything or anyone. Within a matter of minutes, the world had lost all of its color and everything was dismal and dark and full of despair. It had been months, months, but his heart was breaking all over again and it was just as painful and real as it had been the last time, only maybe it was a bit worse now.

He was stupid, so incredibly stupid, and foolish and worthless. Everything had been a lie. The greatest few months of his life had been nothing but one horrible lie. His happiness, the first time in a long, long time he could remember ever being so completely happy and carefree, was based on nothing but a lie. His feelings, feelings he had never before felt for someone else, the feeling of finally, _finally, _being wanted and loved, the feeling of meaning something important to someone and of being desirable, and the feeling that maybe, just maybe, there was such a thing as soul mates and that he had found his was based on one huge lie.

Now, he felt worthless, so damn worthless, foolish, and incapable of loving or of being loved. Before, no one had wanted him just because they genuinely wanted him. There had always, _always_, been something someone wanted from him. And then, for a few short months, it finally felt like there was someone who loved him for him, who found him desirable even though he wasn't, who made him feel desirable even though he wasn't, and who wanted a future with him that included a house with a white picket fence and kids. But that had all be a lie and he had been such a fool, such a stupid fool, to have believed it.

Even though he had suspected as much towards the end and even the months that followed that Arthur's feelings hadn't been true, it still hurt Alfred so very badly. Everything had been a lie and now it was confirmed and it was killing him, killing whatever he had left of a heart.

When he met Arthur, he was in a relationship. They had started out as nothing but friends; innocent enough. After meeting at the gym, they had started working out together and as they talked while they lifted, they found out that they had had a lot in common. Alfred had never met someone who had the same sense of humor or who liked the same shows or who liked the same music and movies. All of his life, people, family included, had made him feel useless, worthless, and unwanted, like he was only convenient when they wanted him and nothing else.

It was nice, so damn nice, to know someone who saw him as a person and who treated him like he actually mattered and was actually cared about.

Arthur was in a relationship but he wasn't happy at all. His partner, Francis, put him down a lot and made him feel like dirt, so perhaps that's why Arthur put the moves on Alfred. They had been watching TV on Arthur's couch when Alfred felt a hand run down his leg. At first, he thought nothing of it. The movie they were watching was full of action and suspense and perhaps Arthur's hands were getting sweat because of it and he accidently rubbed one on Alfred's leg thinking it was his own. Then it happened again and out of the corner of his eye, Alfred saw Arthur grin ever so slightly. That's when he knew that it happened been an accident.

That first night, all that happened was minor stuff: Arthur just running his hand down Alfred's leg or reaching up to scratch his hair, which he absolutely loved. The following night, though, Arthur kissed him. Just a simple peck on the lips at first, but then things got heavy fast. By the end of the night, they ended up having sex on Arthur's couch with Francis asleep in the bedroom just a few feet away from where they were.

He knew it was wrong of them, that Arthur was in a committed relationship, but Arthur had made the first move, not Alfred. Besides, it had been a while since Alfred had received any affection from anyone, so it was really nice. And a hand could only go so far for so long. On his way home later that night, Alfred told himself that it was just a one-time thing, that it meant nothing, that they were just friends and that they needed to get off and hey, what better way than with a buddy, right?

But it wasn't just a one-time thing.

After that, every time Alfred would come over to Arthur's apartment, which was about four to five times a week depending on if they were lifting or not, they would have sex. On the couch, on the floor, even a couple of times on Arthur's work out bench. When they were done, they would watch TV or a movie or look up houses, a strange yet interesting hobby of Arthur's.

Within a week or two after they had started their affair – because what else was it? – Arthur began telling Alfred that he was developing _feelings_ for him. As in the kind of feelings he was only supposed to feel for Francis. And Alfred, who had been reminded more than once just how homely he looked, was amazed and in awe that someone as handsome as Arthur, as perfect, could possibly have feelings for him and saw him as someone who was desirable.

Naturally, Alfred began to feel the same way even though he had told himself he wouldn't. But what else could he do when Arthur was telling him that he was beautiful and that they could have a future together and that they would have kids? What else was he supposed to think when Arthur told him that he loved?

It was like a dream come true. No one had ever told Alfred they loved him, not even his mom. And no one, certainly no one as good looking at Arthur, had ever told him that he was handsome or beautiful or that they got turned on when he just walked into a room? No one ever told him that he was perfect, that his flaws made him perfect, or that he was on their minds every moment of every day.

But then, Francis started catching on and he started telling Arthur that they should break up and that he was going to kill himself or that he wanted Arthur to go and stay with Alfred since they were such good friends and whatnot. Then he would demand that Arthur never see Alfred again and, because he was whipped, Arthur would tell Alfred that. And every single time, Alfred would break down, his heart would break, and he would start bawling like a little baby. Never before had he ever cried this hard over someone; of course, he had never felt so much in love as he did with Arthur.

It got too much; it all became too much for Alfred to handle. The good stopped outweighing the bad and he eventually told Arthur that he didn't trust him anymore and that he didn't want to be friends. Arthur seemed fine with that, too fine, and let him go too willingly for Alfred to trust. Within a matter of days after, word had reached Alfred that Arthur had told their mutual friends that Alfred was obsessed with him because he was so much in love with him and that he had demanded that Arthur break up with Francis so that they could be together. That…that had been a heavy blow and a low one too, and Alfred barely got any sleep after that.

In order to prove to everyone that he wasn't obsessed with Arthur, he blocked him from his Facebook, stopped talking to him all together and refused to even look at him. While it had been extremely hard to Alfred to do because he was still in love with Arthur, he had someone managed to get by. Things got better somewhat after that. It felt as though Alfred might finally get through all of the heart break and turmoil Arthur had brought into his life in just a few months.

And then today, he had been told that Arthur had only said the things he said to him, about loving him and everything else, because he thought it was what Alfred wanted to hear and that he had never loved him to begin with. Just like that, Alfred had crumbled and all of the sorrow and despair he had felt just a few short months ago all came rushing back with such ferocity that it nearly brought him to his knees.

The happiest months of his whole entire life were nothing but a lie. The love that had been there had been a lie. The future he could have had was nothing but one humongous lie. Everything he had felt during his time with Arthur had been nothing but a disgusting lie. And he had been so very stupid to have fallen for it. It only confirmed what Alfred had always believed about him: that he was worthless, that he wasn't deserving of love, and that he wasn't capable of being loved.

His love had been a lie, an ugly lie brought on by Arthur and his sole desire for wanting Alfred for nothing but a good time. Was it even love then? Did that mean that Alfred wasn't capable of loving anyone? He doubted it. Had he ever loved anyone period? Probably not. Alfred hadn't realized that a broken heart could break even further, but his apparently had. It felt as though it had been ripped out of his chest, trampled on the ground, chopped into bits, set on fire, and shoved back into his chest along with ten pounds of salt to make it all burn even worse.

Everything around him seemed gray and colorless, lifeless. It fit his mood perfectly, this cold, rainy, lifeless world around him. Alfred knew now that nothing was ever going to be okay and that he would never, ever be happy. And he also knew that he could never trust anyone ever again. He had trust issues before Arthur and now, after everything, they were even worse than before. Well, if Arthur had been lying to him, then so had everyone else he had ever known.

He didn't them. Alfred didn't need anybody. The only companion he needed was himself and no one else. He didn't his family and he didn't need his friends. They would only reconfirm his belief that there were no good people left in the world and that everything was just as hopeless as it seemed.

Sitting in his car while the rain poured down all around him, Alfred gazed with dull, lifeless eyes upward through the windshield while tears ran steadily down his face.


End file.
